


Beyond Ribbons

by Nym



Series: A Bed of Thorns Remixes Etc. [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:56:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nym/pseuds/Nym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The handkerchief scene from chapter 70 of <em>A Bed of Thorns</em>, remixed from Rumpelstiltskin's point of view.</p><p>
  <em>He can feel her there in the gold, caught in the magic; Belle; her purpose and her pleasure in the crafting of the thing; her hope, her doubts and her recent sorrows as well. His thread has captured his little wife's devotion and it sings to him now, stopping the breath in his throat.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr users Notalwayslate and Nightowlwoman asked for the handkerchief scene from chapter 70 of A Bed of Thorns, from Rumpelstiltskin's point of view. Ariedreaming and Sachan93 seconded and thirded the request! This was also my contribution to the 'Fluffapalooza' celebrating the 1 year anniversary of the airing of 'Skin Deep' :)
> 
> **None of my fanfiction may be reposted or otherwise shared elsewhere, including translations and audio recordings, unless you have my written consent. Using my occasional original ideas/characters in your own fanfic, to make your _own_ words or art or whatever, is fine with me.**

She gives him her mouth, and steals away what little remains of his will. Rumpelstiltskin tries hard not to believe it, to think it a dream, but Belle is far too tangible for that. He's in her mouth, and for a few blissful moments nothing matters in the world besides her; Belle; his unshockable little wife who loves him in spite of all.

She confides, flushed and smirking, that his cock is too big for her to manage comfortably, and Rumpelstiltskin laughs as he hasn't laughed in years - centuries. She doesn't even mind when he spills his seed on her leg like a fumbling boy, too excited to last until he's inside her. She's a wonder, a treasure, a gift, and Rumpelstiltskin cannot believe that she is his, or that she favours him enough to let him unpin her hair while they kiss. Her ribbons today are well woven into a cunning hairstyle. It occupies his hands for some time before he earns himself the prize.

"How many ribbons did you find?" Belle asks, coy as she cuddles up to him. She enjoys the game; has begun to tease him with different ribbons, cunning plaits and concealed hairpins rather than simply bundle up her hair in a pretty bow.

"Two," he says, happily. "A pair. Not as soft as your usual delights, my treasure, but so _pretty_." They're rustic things, handwoven of white and coloured cotton. A fine addition to his collection, and won't it be marvellous to remember the heat of her mouth on his cock along with the sight of these very twin ribbons bound into her chestnut braids? Delicious. They may be his new favourites.

Rumpelstiltskin is considering how to make amends for his earlier shortcomings, whether it should be his fingers inside her or his mouth drinking her sweet juices that makes her come, when Belle scrambles away from him with sudden urgency, almost ramming her knee into his balls, and starts groping beneath the pillows. Intrigued, and deciding that it should be tongue and lips and excruciating _patience_ that torment his treasure to her next orgasm, Rumpelstiltskin goes after her. Belle shrugs off his attempt to embrace her from behind, laughing softly and turning her body to conceal what she has in her hands.

"Close your eyes," Belle laughs, more blushing maid than sinful temptress. "I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" Rumpelstiltskin holds out the pair of ribbons, over her shoulder, beaming with satisfaction. "I have these."

"You stole those. While I was busy." He frowns, drawing the trophies back in case she decides to reclaim them. "Close your eyes," Belle commands, still full of girlish laughter.

"All right." Curiosity and the shameless desire to please his wife go to war in Rumpelstiltskin's thoughts, but he closes his eyes and keeps them closed, and keeps himself from reaching out with magic to discover Belle's playful little secret dishonestly. A gift? She gives him her all, her everything, even her perfect pink mouth on his cursed old prick because he begged her, and thinks that there can be _more?_

"Are they closed?"

"Quite closed."

Belle shuffles and fidgets among the pillows. Rumpelstiltskin's ripe imagination decides that she must be arranging herself in some provocative way - perhaps spreading herself open wide, or showing him that she'd like to be taken from behind. The vivid mind-pictures give him a pleasant shiver. Might she be touching herself? That almost overspills the limits of his imagination; the thought of her working her own dainty fingers into her creamy quim. He'd like to see that.

Something soft brushes his nose, then his shoulder, startling him out of happy speculation. "What is it?"

Cloth, Rumpelstiltskin decides, laughing when she tickles his body with it. Soft and cool cloth, folded in her hand. Belle teases him with it a while, finishing with a brush across his nipples that sends his mind back towards the many possibilities open to the husband of a lithe and loving wife who's sitting naked among the pillows. She places the cloth in his hand - twice-folded silk, if his fingertips do not deceive - and gives him the sweetest of kisses. "You can look," Belle tells him.

Rumpelstiltskin looks down at his hand and sees a square of loosely folded black silk, its edges embroidered with what looks like gold thread. His, he realises, too aware of how closely Belle watches him as he shakes out the folds to see what she has given him. It is a handkerchief, generously sized and embroidered with gold thread of Rumpelstiltskin's own making - just a simple border and a flourishing 'R' in one corner. He can _feel_ her there in the gold, caught in the magic; Belle; her purpose and her pleasure in the crafting of the thing; her hope, her doubts and her recent sorrows as well. His thread has captured his little wife's devotion and it sings to him now, stopping the breath in his throat. Rumpelstiltskin manages to look at her but he cannot speak.

"You give me so many gifts," Belle says, uncertainty creeping in past her fond smile. "I wanted to give you something, something to keep." Blue eyes hold his gaze, so sincere.

He nods. Swallows the choke in his throat that might be laughter, or might just as easily be a sob. A man could choke on humility in the face of such innocent love. Such absolute beauty as Belle wears, soul-deep.

"Thank you," Rumpelstiltskin manages to say, for she's beginning to fear that her gift is unwelcome or inadequate because he's too silent. Thanks are inadequate, but they seem welcome; Belle smiles and comes to him for a kiss, putting her arms around his neck. That's how the handkerchief feels, when he touches his mind to the hidden thread of magic within the fine strand of gold; like Belle's embrace, fierce and soft all at once, able to soothe or stir him. Can she know what it is that she has made for him, by working her love into her stitches, and her stitches from the gold that remembers its master? Like Rumpelstiltskin, it remembers. It remembers being straw.

He clutches the gift in one hand, the simple ribbons in the other, and wonders if this beautiful woman will break him, or save his soul. "I'll treasure it, my treasure," he breathes, moved to kiss the nearest accessible part of Belle; her shoulder. He wants to lose himself in her kisses, and thank her with the pleasures that she enjoys so well. "Beyond even ribbons," he promises.

Ribbons he leaves lying about, pretty reminders of Belle's favour. This handkerchief with its secret message of love, Rumpelstiltskin means to keep jealously close to him. Close to his body, always.

**Author's Note:**

> **None of my fanfiction may be reposted or otherwise shared elsewhere, including translations and audio recordings, unless you have my written consent. Using my occasional original ideas/characters in your own fanfic, to make your _own_ words or art or whatever, is fine with me.**


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